End
END ♣ BY DARKSTRIPE Tigerstar was gone. At long last, the infamous conqueror of all that is good and pure, the monster of tales that left young and old quivering, the name whose very syllables were woven with evil... was gone. Where his body had fallen, no blood was left. He was dead and dead again, with no means of ever haunting them, but in memory. Tigerstar was gone. Firestar was victorious. As the orange tabby breathed heavily at the spot where his opponent was demised, a roar of excitement had begun around him, the many nameless and faceless shapes crying out in triumph. Though Firestar, if he squinted hard enough, could percieve a select few of them in the darkness of night, the blood running down between his ears and into his emerald eyes blurred his vision to blindness. Despite the battle having been curtained, with all the opposition either dead or running, Firestar still felt like the heavy weight of another cat was crushing him, as though all his wounds had culminated into a single living entity that was now pressing him into the dirt and blood. From afar, came an earthy scream of light and rock. Firestar didn't imagine the sound to be close at all until his bleary gaze went white and his fur was scalded. Sparks, flames, fire. A sudden an unimaginable heat that prickled like a wash of thorns into his pelt. He expected the rush of pain to last much longer, but to his surprise, it did not. The fright was quickly soothed as a gentle flow of smoke wafted into his senses, a burning yet calm sensation that enveloped him in warmth. By the time the rain had arrived to extinguish the threatening inferno, Firestar was far away in what was left of his cognizant thoughts. Faces of the cats he knew blurred into a cluster of dancing shapes, swaying in a dreamlike state. They soon mixed with vivid images of fire, of blood, and of the countless foggy memories he'd lived long enough to make. Firestar's mind fell asleep to the gentle softness of gratitude, billowing over the sting of pain like plump white clouds. And though the old orange tom slept, a smile graced his dying muzzle. A smile that would last through many moons of sadness. A smile that would last through eternity. "Rusty...! Rusty...!" The orange tom awoke with a start. His emerald eyes snapped open like a pair of shutters, as though he'd suddenly been roused from the deepest, dreamliest of slumbers. He looked around confusedly, the only home he'd ever known seeming suddenly unfamiliar. No more were the dark trees, the dancing shapes, nor the putrid fumes of death. Where there had just been several bloody chasms carved into his pelt, a tingling sensation had replaced. His fur was kit-soft and unmolested, his body, youthful and spry. No aches and pains of an elder warrior to be felt. Somehow, it was like the years of hardship had never seen him at all, as though it had all been an elaborate illusion. Rusty rose from his bed, a far cushier perch than even swan feathers, and shook the remnants of his adventure away. CS Category:DSfics Category:DSCupcakes Category:Fan Fictions Category:Stories Rated Moderate